


Arcane Mysteries

by Ambitious_Rubbish



Series: Kinktober 2020 [10]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27004966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambitious_Rubbish/pseuds/Ambitious_Rubbish
Summary: Everyone knows the Dwemer are incredible craftsmen. Legendary, even. They may be long gone from the world, but their creations have endured.Tamriel is dotted with the entrances to massive subterranean labyrinths built by Dwemer. Their meticulously constructed and amazingly complex automata continue to prowl those empty halls. Their knowledge of magic and metallurgy remains unmatched.As, apparently, does their knowledge of… other subjects.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ysolda
Series: Kinktober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949869
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Arcane Mysteries

**Author's Note:**

> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580
> 
> Day 11: "Sex Toys"
> 
> Day 12: "Drunken Sex"

“I can’t believe you – I mean… that’s just… ick.”

Lydia had always been the opinionated sort, and so her choosing to weigh in on this particular subject was hardly a surprise. What was surprising, however, was that her arguments were usually much more… eloquent.

Ysolda grinned. “ ‘Ick?’ ” She shot a look at the woman next to her who was smiling just as broadly as she was.

“That’s your objection? ‘Ick?’” Sidra asked, punctuating the question with a faint snicker.

For once in her life, Lydia was almost speechless.

Almost.

“Well… what… what else would you have me say?” She gesticulated wildly, as if her unsuccessful attempts to communicate via words could somehow be made up for if she just waved her hands around emphatically enough. “I can’t believe the two of you actually went and...” She shook her head, clearly bewildered and perhaps even a little disgusted. “Sidra, we found that thing at the bottom of a scrap heap.”

“We found lots of things at the bottom of that scrap heap, Lydia. And given how much we sold most of it for, I really don’t think any of it could have been actually considered ‘scrap.’”

“That’s beside the point, and you know it. You took something hundreds, maybe even thousands of years old, that we found at the bottom of some enormous hole in the ground. Who knows where it’s been?!”

“Well, you just said: it’s been at the bottom of some enormous hole in the ground.”

“You’re missing the point!”

Ysolda let out a little bored yawn and buffed her knuckles on her skirt. “Is the point that you intend to stand there yelling at us for another hour or two? Because lunch is getting cold.”

“I just don’t understand… why would you… how could you even-”

“If I might interject a little here, Lydia: Brelyna did do a thorough study and she said it was perfectly safe.”

Lydia began ticking points off on her fingers. “Oh, did she now? Because as far as I knew, she’s… one, not an expert on Dwemer artifacts, two, never been particularly good at recognizing hostile magic even when it’s staring her right in the face, and three… well… the woman turned you into a horse!”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve never really heard all the details about how that happened. Or why. Or… anything, really.”

“Ysolda. Darling. You’ve heard all you need to. That incident is… well, it’s the sort of thing that’s best left alone.”

The redhead smirked at the very obvious and clumsy attempt to steer the conversation in another direction. And so, like a particularly stubborn dog with a bone, she refused to let this one go. “She turned you into a male horse, didn’t she?”

“I really don’t care to discuss it any further, thank you,” Sidra said through clenched teeth. “Anyway, look, perhaps our actions were a touch… ill-advised-”

Lydia interrupted. “Of course they were. You were drunk. Drunk and flouncing about the house naked.”

“You say that like it’s not something we do several times a week. And just so we’re clear, I was not ‘flouncing.’ Sidra was flouncing.”

“Not likely!” the Imperial protested with a laugh. “I’ve never ‘flounced’ in my life. If anyone was flouncing, it was you. You got a little wild once you started lapping wine off my stomach. I would even go so far as to say that constituted ‘flouncing.’”

Ysolda’s eyes narrowed and she glared (mild) daggers at the Imperial. “You’re not helping.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

Lydia waved all the explanations and interruptions away with a disinterested hand. “Well, whatever the case, I get back from the Bannered Mare only to find the two of you rutting like animals on the floor in front of the fireplace?”

“How many stories of ‘incredible fireplace sex’ have you regaled me with during the time we’ve known each other? I’m simply following your example.”

“That’s not the point. Fireplace sex is one thing, but the two of you and that… ridiculous Dwemer contraption whirring away between the two of you? You should be ashamed of yourselves. It’s just… it’s… it’s unnatural, is what it is.”

Sidra smiled amicably, if a touch patronizingly. “I don’t think you should judge until you’ve tried it. In fact, is that the reason you’re so angry with us? Because we didn’t invite you to join in?”

The Nord’s face went bright red and she sputtered in outrage. “What?!” Of course not! That… that isn’t… don’t be ridiculous!”

“I think you’re the one being ridiculous, Lydia. If you’d wanted to join us, you could have just asked. As you say, we were drunk. We probably would have gone along with anything at that point.”

Lydia shook herself violently. “You… that is just...” She closed her eyes and shook her head which set off another full-body shiver. “What you did was an absolutely shameful display, and you should… um… you should...”

Ysolda smiled sweetly. “Be ashamed of ourselves?”

“That. Yes. That.”

“And you’re sure you’re not just angry because you feel left out?”

“No!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Argh! The two of you are insufferable!” She stomped up the stairs. A few moments later, the walls shook as she slammed the door to her room closed behind her.

As the noises of irritated stomping echoed down from the ceiling above, Ysolda turned. Her mouth was set in a tight, little frown, and her brow was furrowed. “Did we actually do all of that?”

“Unfortunately, she’s not kidding about the part where we were rolling around on the floor. It’s a little hazy, but I seem to remember you saying something about how the sabre cat pelt we have on the floor over there felt soooooo good on bare skin. And then you started rolling around on it, and I just didn’t want you to roll yourself into the firepit, so I tried to pull you out, and...”

The redhead chuckled and shook her head. “That does sound like something I would do. What about the-”

“Oh, the thing with the- yeah, no, I think she just misinterpreted something she saw and got upset.” She reached for the Dwemer construct in question which was lying, dormant, on top of the fireplace mantle. She flicked a switch on its side and it began to buzz faintly. “I’ve been told this is actually for cleaning teeth.”

“Huh. What will those Dwemer think of next?”

“Um. Nothing? They’re dead.”

“Oh. Right.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments more, trading grins with each other as Lydia continued to angrily stomp about above them.

“She really is just angry we didn’t ask her to join in, isn’t she?”

“Oh, gods, yes.”


End file.
